Just Once More
by mintaminta
Summary: Harry and Draco have been trying to replace each other with cheap knockoffs for a year, so what kind of fun ensues when they finally get their hands on the prize? Slash, smut, HPDM.


**Title:** Just This Once

**Author:**mintapotter

**Author's Note:** This is a one shot, and here's the warnings: **SMUT, SLASH. **If you don't like either, than don't read. If you do, then keep on reading and drop me a line at the end.

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**Just This Once**

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As soon as he walked past the door's solid barrier the smell of sweat and alcohol and sex filled his nostrils. The boom of the bass pounded up through his soles and straight through the air, the warm heat of bodies packed together holding him tightly. He inhaled deep because this was something he recognized. Enjoyed even.

This was the distinct aroma of his favorite club, and in the deep of the night it seemed like its very walls pounded and breathed along with all the damp people crammed inside.

It made him feel very, very alive.

During the day he was cute but safe. Everyone already knew his name, his eye colour, the way he wore his glasses or how his hair fell. But at night he could become something different altogether; he became wild. No glasses, hair higher and crazier, clothes disheveled. He was a predator out for just one more night of fun.

Just one more night.

He told himself this every single time he stepped into any pub, club or bar. He told himself this was it, he'd quit after just this one,

last,

time.

He looked at his addiction as one might understand the need to watch porn; it was the notion that one day he'd find something so amazing, so mind blowingly perfect that he'd be able to stop searching.

He knew that this, in and of itself, was a lie.

He had once fixated on something perfect; he had also let it get away after seven desperately angry years. He had watched it slip away from him and he had never once told a soul that he had loved, or whom he had. So here he was.

One, two, three, four. Four was the magic number, his favorite number of shots. He wasn't drunk but he could pretend he was. He could swear tomorrow that it was seven or nine, or that he had lost count. He could say that everything after four shots had been a blur; he could get away without remembering a girls name in the morning. He could blame the night and everything it had contained on the alcohol.

He always stopped counting after four.

And there she was. She was the twenty third one, somehow different but always the same as all the others. Her and the twenty two before her all had commonalities.

She was drunk.

Blond.

Her breasts were…real? Fake? Harry didn't much care anymore. It wasn't any longer even a thing he looked at. Not that he ever had, for that matter.

And her eyes were blue, a fabulous shade of blue. Like the ocean, other people could get lost in them.

He, for a fact, hated the blue eyes but they were all these 'blondes' ever were. He had no choice; most people weren't made the way he wanted them to be. Their eye colour would never, not once, compare to what he missed and wanted.

So he always, always, always settled in on blue.

So he sidled up beside her. Bought her a drink, then another, and third after that. He touched her back, slipped his fingers over her arm and danced them behind her neck. He murmured and cooed and laughed at whatever she said. He let her pull him to the dance floor, and he danced until they were both saturated with other peoples sweat.

He drove them both home, narrowly missing a light pole and signpost. She giggled and swatted his arm. He let her because having her angry so soon would defeat the purpose of the night. He had seen both the pole and post coming and had purposely tried to hit them. He wanted her to think that he too was drunk. He wanted their parting words in the morning to include 'that was fun' and 'goodbye'.

Never left a number.

He never wanted to see her again, as long as he lived.

So they got to his home; she slipped three times on his stairs. It was quick to find his bedroom, to undress. It was dark so that her hair shone in the little light that penetrated his thin silk curtains. Her teeth sparkled in all their fake whiteness; her smile soon found something much more interesting to do with its time.

And all, all he had to do was close his eyes and pretend that she, like the twenty two before her, was something else. Someone, always someone, else. He would stroke her hair and fuck her and the whole time think of someone else. He never cried out a name; he only ever moaned in the safety of his mind.

She fell asleep before he did; they always fell asleep soon. And he stayed awake, alert, and thought about how she would never do as the last one. How could he give up on blondes and move on to brunettes or redheads after her poor performance?

How could he give up on the dream of finding someone perfect to replace the one he'd always wanted if she was the last one he'd tried out? Sure, to any other guy he knew she'd be a keeper. She'd be their love, she'd be the thing they adored and loved. To Harry she was simply number twenty three, twenty third in a long list of blonde, blue eyed disappointments.

In the morning she dressed quickly, but he pretended to still be asleep. It was easier this way.

She tried to wake him; he turned over and pretended to continue sleeping. She sighed, then she left the way she had come.

Harry awoke fully a few moments later and realized that she had scribbled a number on a napkin and had left it by his bedside table. He scowled at it and as he stared its edges slowly curled up and blackened until the entire thing was gone in a wisp of fire.

"Better," he murmured before showering for a new day. And later, after work maybe, a new night.

Twenty four was a good number, right?

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The club was the same. The time, the people dancing, the music; they were all only slightly different than the night before. He was the same person in different clothing, and his attitude had finally changed.

"Twenty four is far too many for an experiment. Get a grip. This is it, then you move on. You'll stop."

He said this to himself before stepping out of his car, before he was whisked past the bouncer at the clubs door. He had decided that tonight of all nights he would have not a single drop of alcohol in him. He would be more alert, choosier. He would choose who would be his last one, he would watch them all until he could safely pick someone to be his very, very last.

This was to be the night to top all nights, and then he would end his game. No more blondes, no more bars, or clubs, or pubs. No more one night stands and ignoring the girls in the morning. None of it.

He would settle down after

just

this

one

last

night.

So Harry decided to start the night a little different. He drifted away from the bar and onto the dance floor, letting the beat take him away. He swayed and had plenty of girls willing to sway right along with him. Tonight was packed more than usual. There were more bodies crammed into the same small space; his back was pressed into another mans. A girls hips were against his, another girls breath was hot on his face. So he moved away, he left them behind. The one had green eyes, like his.

That'd never do.

The other simply didn't pass his test. This one, he told himself, must be perfect.

And there it was.

Not drunk, for once. Sober, fresh from the front doors.

Still blond, but much, much better. Natural. White. Sheets and sheets of it.

No breasts, which was always a plus. He'd never cared for them anyways.

And those god fucking damn eyes. Not blue, never again could he do something with blue eyes.

These were those unnatural silver. The icy grey that he had missed. These were the perfect eyes he had been waiting much too long for.

And he smiled. It was cruel, that smile. It promised things for later that would probably never come. It was coy, it was quick, and then he pulled Harry back to the dance floor. Moving, grinding, was always much easier than talking. Neither of them had ever been much for talking things out. Physically, things were always settled much better with their hands. Mostly it had involved them smacking each other in the mouth but tonight they replaced the beating with dancing.

Harry couldn't help but grin because this was much, much better.

After a time Harry pulled him away from the others who were pushing and pressing against the two of them. Harry was tired of sharing him with anyone else.

They fetched their coats from the front doors but neither wore them. Harry's black t-shirt was soaked to him like a second skin, the others white shirt still crisp tight, constricting, anyway. They both gulped lungfuls of the night air; the fresh smell of ozone and oncoming rain replacing the stench of the club.

Their silence was something not to be broken lightly.

Back in Harry's car he reached over and pushed in the little stick of metal that would in a moment light up the little stick of tobacco he had produced from his pocket. He didn't ask first, and Harry knew that he never would.

"You actually smoke those?"

He smiled; his teeth still a brilliant white. "I only smoke them when I really don't give a fuck anymore. This would count for that. I don't care what happens after this. My day has already become one big…fuck up, as of the moment I smiled at you in that goddamn bar."

Harry could simply nod at that and keep driving. He was sated by simply sneaking looks in the cars mirror, watching his un-saintly clean and manicured fingers balance the cigarette in-between them, then elegantly take a pull and let the smoke flyaway into the wind passing them by. The wind ruffled his hair and the clouds themselves seemed to keep the rain within them held in just a little longer so that Harry could keep the hood of the car down. To watch this.

And so that he could keep staring at _Draco_. Draco's hair flying in the wind, Draco's fingers flicking the stub left of his cigarette onto the sidewalk, Draco's face marring with lines of anger as he stepped out of Harry's car and felt the first stirrings of rain upon his face as though he were angry at the clouds for doing such a thing to him.

And then Harry didn't have to keep staring at Draco, he had him in his own house. He could touch him. And so he did.

As soon as they crossed the barrier that was the front door of Harry's house they were no longer in control. They were angry at each other for the seven years wasted hating each other. They wanted revenge. And they were longing for the hot and sweaty feeling that dancing had given them, that they had left behind at the club. They were cooled down and were longing to get worked up all over again.

Harry had been longing to feel worked up about something, someone, anything for years. Through twenty three girls he had felt nothing but a growing longing.

So he pushed Draco against the wall and kissed him, much deeper and harder and angrier than he had ever kissed a person. A woman. A man.

"Oh-god, fuck-" Draco struggled with words between the crushing of Harry's mouth on his, his own hands quickly unfastening Harry's belt and whipping it away from the two of them. Harry's hands were too busy brushing through Draco's hair to spend much time taking off his clothes, but that was fine.

All in good time.

Harry couldn't keep his lips off Draco and Draco couldn't pull away from Harry. They both managed enough thought to push off their shoes quickly and kick them aside but they were both still missing the hot, sweaty feeling they had wanted for so, so long.

"Come here," Harry whispered softly into Draco's ear, Draco jumping up onto Harry hips and clutching his own legs to keep himself up. Harry nipped beneath Draco's ear, the heat finally growing between them. Their chests were now pressed together and Draco's perfect, unblemished hands were clenching at Harry's shoulders to keep himself up on the other mans hips.

But there was still much, much too much between them. Clothing was fast becoming less of a necessity and more of a nuisance.

Harry had never been all that strong. Never a beater on the Quidditch team, never picked first in rough sports. But he could feel his legs carrying him and Draco both up the stairs and never once did he even feel tired.

That is until they hit the bed, Draco pinned beneath Harry still with his legs wrapped tightly around his hips. Harry didn't feel much like getting off Draco, losing the little contact he had gained. So he snuck his hands down between them and began unfastening the belt Draco had been wearing, not once taking his lips off the soft skin that covered Draco's neck. Never ceasing to kiss that lightly scratchy, stubbled chin that rubbed against his like sandpaper.

His hands wouldn't stop at the belt though. They worked past the buttons and fly, pulling his trousers off and down, along with his socks. Draco was getting a little angry at the amount of time all the undressing was taking however, and pulled his own shirt over his head before ripping Harry's over his as well.

"You always take so much fucking time, Harry?" He hissed while removing Harry's trousers and socks himself, leaving the two of them wearing only their boxers.

Pleasant.

"I've been waiting for this for a very, very long time. I'll take all the time I can."

Draco scratched lines down Harry's chest, laughing at the hissing sounds he made the other boy make.

"Maybe if you're really good to me you won't have to wait so long next time."

To Harry, that was as good as a guarentee of a next time.

Harry attacked Draco with all his weight, laying toe to toe, hips on hips, lips to lips. Their skin felt sticky with sweat and bonded together anywhere it touched. There wasn't a moment in time that compared to this. Both of them only vaguely registered the pitter patter of rain on the roof above them, the shake of thunder outside the bedrooms walls, the flash of lightening. A bite of Harry's bottom lip hard enough to sting brought the both of them back to their senses however.

He didn't rebuke Draco, only stared into the grey eyes that were smiling all on their own. The blond carefully licked a tiny bit of Harry's blood off his lips, then decided to change his tactics. His deft hands pulled on either side of Harry's hips until the brunette was laying face down on the bed with his ass sticking quite precariously in the air.

"So what, now you get to fuck me? Where's this fair?" Harry asked this question harshly and another scratch to his back was Draco's first reply. Those _teeth._

"I've already drawn blood. Not much worse damage that I can do, right?" he whispered this into Harry's ear menacingly, pulling down the hem of his boxers at the same time. For a moment they were apart before Draco's familiar weight was once again directly behind Harry.

"Don't tell me that-" Harry's words were cut off quickly but Draco's smooth fingers pushing into his mouth. He soon withdrew them, not once explaining to Harry why.

"You would have done better to suck longer, but being the idiot you are you aren't exactly one to look ahead are you?"

A question to this was nearly on Harry's lips when all his questions were at once answered. A single, delicate, perfect Malfoy finger was working at his hole, a deliciously wet mouth to accompany it. He gasped a little and Draco's grumbling laugh hummed into his skin, the finger pushing forward.

Harry tensed and loosened, couldn't help but sigh and drop his head to the cool fresh sheets beneath him. This feeling of something new and unexpected and lovely at the same time. Draco's body came up to meet with Harry's back soon, his sharp tiny teeth biting into the taut flesh of a shoulderblade.

"You've lost a bit of weight since we left school, haven't you?" Draco purred this into Harry's ear, a second finger joining the first. Harry gave in to his want and moaned, pushing back against Draco's hand. He didn't care anymore what was going on, he just liked it. Itburned and he was tense but nonetheless it was perfect.

"You've cleaned up quite nicely, though."

"I've been living off…_fuck_…girls and alcohol since we left school Draco… and ironically, I've had quite the taste for blondes."

Draco didn't respond through words, instead biting harder into Harry's shoulder to convey his displeasure with this. His fingers criss-crossed inside Harry like a pair of scissors and for a moment Harry didn't even care that his lips were staining the pillowcase beneath them with spots of scarlet, that his back was on fire from the bites and scratches. He didn't care much at all anymore.

Draco's mouth was at his neck, ghosting his lips. This was not a kiss, more than a touch.

"Every blonde you met couldn't possibly be real though? Or as pretty as me, right?" Harry inclined his head back into Draco's mouth as an answer 'yes'. It was the closest thing he could do to speak at the moment.

"I'll let you in on a secret. I've had a penchant lately for boys with green eyes, and do you know how hard they are to find? And I've let eleven of them fuck me since we left school."

With these whispers Draco pushed a soft kiss into the back of Harry's neck and added finger number three. Harry couldn't keep up the pretense that it didn't hurt so he let his throat emit a moan of mostly pain. He knew that this was not going to be pleasant. Draco tried his best to dull the pain by taking Harry's hand within his own and making the other boy stroke himself, trying to distract the brunette with something that felt good. Draco took his own free hand to pump himself up, getting ready to finally, _finally_ fuck Harry Potter like he had always, always wanted to.

"And I'll tell you something else Harry dearest. I never really liked letting them fuck me. This," Draco's fingers scissored again and Harry cried out louder even than before, "this was always my least favorite part. And tonight I was looking for lucky number twelve. Then I found you."

"Funny," Harry gasped out his words, his hands clenched onto the poles that connected his headboard to his bed, "I've been through twenty three blonds and I've never much enjoyed…fucking them. Girls, that is. Tonight was supposed to be my last one. It's been more than a year since school ended and…I thought it was about time I gave up…"

Draco finally couldn't keep himself off Harry any longer. He slipped his fingers out but did nothing else. A slow trail of kisses down Harry's neck across his shoulders filled their gap in time.

"So you've never been with a boy before, have you?" Draco's question pierced the chilly air quietly, making Harry shake his head 'no' with the plain truth.

"No. And you've never fucked anybody before, have you? Guy or girl?"

"No love, that I never tried. So for all intents and purposes, we're both virgins, huh?"

Harry laughed at this, his mouth caught quickly with Draco's to muffle his fears. There was much burning and tingling and sweat dripping and pre cum and soft flesh and their rigid cocks and his mind couldn't take it all. Anything, even the soft kiss, was a touch too much. Harry's spine shivered with it; he could swear that his fingertips were numb.

"It's going to hurt and I'm not going to apologize for it. Understand? But don't let all your stupid Gryffindor pride keep you from telling me-"

"- I'm not always an idiot Draco. And I don't expect you to apologize so please, stop making me wait. It's already been a year since school ended-"

"-so a moment longer won't hurt anything but you." Draco finished the sentence for Harry, fingering him quickly again to try and minimize hurting him later.

Slytherin's were always thinking ahead.

Draco pulled them out this time but didn't say a thing to Harry. He pushed the brunettes head down into bed and pulled his hips up higher until his cock was perfectly positioned to slide into Harry and-

"Oh…fuck." Was all Harry whispered into his arm, his teeth biting down from unmistakable pain. His long, long neglected cock only now got some attention from Draco, the blondes one hand steadying him on Harry's hip while the other slowly stroked up and down his partners length.

"Was that an 'oh fuck that hurts' or an 'oh fuck that's good'?" Draco murmured, his hips only slowly now pulling away from and pushing into Harry.

"It's both but…don't you dare stop now, or I'll fucking kill you."

So Draco kept right on going, taking his sweet, sweet time. He only let himself speed up when Harry would ask for it, but after a certain amount of time he had no self control left to speak of. Harry moaned from the pain or maybe the pleasure, or maybe both. Draco held his lovers hips and no longer cared about what hurt the other. He was too busy fucking Harry into the bed to notice their sweat mingling, or that every time he hit that special spot inside Harry the brunette would have to bite down on his already split lip and make it bleed all over again. He would grunt to keep from screaming or bite his tongue so he could hear that beaituful slapping of skin on skin.

Days, hours, minutes, seconds, they were all a blur. Neither could tell the time, when they'd started, when they were going to have to stop. Rain still fell outside, thunder still rumbled it's bass line through them, the dark still enveloped them and kept them believing that the night would never end.

Until Harry couldn't keep biting on his lip to hold in his moans. He got louder, to the point of almost screaming Draco's name, obscenities that would make even deaf neighbors cringe. And Draco focused only on the slapping of their skin together, not caring who hurt who or how loud he got.

"Draco I'm, I can't wait and…fuck, Draco…" Harry barely gasped the last word out of his mouth before coming onto his bed, Draco taking a much louder approach and moaning only when he came into Harry moments later.

"Never…make me wait…so long to…do that…ever….again." Draco gasped his words into the wet skin at the nape of Harry's neck, brushing the coal black hair stuck to it off with his fingertips.

"I won't, I promise you and…at least that was worth waiting for."

Draco smiled to himself and pulled out of Harry leisurely, Harry's final gasp followed by him turning over to lay beside Draco, the both of them still breathing heavily with their bodies entwined in odd places. Neither wanted to move.

"Fancy staying the night?" Harry asked this sincerely and was met by a simple laugh from Draco.

"I'm glad you asked because here I was, all ready to up and leave." He rolled into Harry closer than they had been before, their cooling skin forcing them both to retreat to under the covers. They shared a smile, a soft kiss on the lips before they both drifted off to sleep.

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Harry awoke the next morning unusually well rested, sore, but happy. In the early stirrings of morning he still couldn't remember why he felt so...complete. Done. Finshed. Happy.

Happy?

"How soon can you be out of bed and ready to take me out for a coffee?"a light voice murmured into his ear. He smiled and leaned into the voice because it was not the annoying, cloying tones of a gilry one night stand. This was gravelly and deeper and very familiar...

"Can't I have another five minutes like this?" Harry replied, slowly prying his eyes open to peer at the scrunched up brow of Draco Malfoy. He thought about this proposition before flopping back down beside Harry, the lines of scheming disappearing from his face.

"Just these last five minutes then we're up alright? I'll let you lie in, just this once."

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**A/N: **One shot, so you've only got this one chance to review. (Please do!)

Lots of love,

mintapotter


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